


Sympathy for the Devil

by Ethirdil



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Infidelity, Legion Culture, Legion-Aligned Courier, Love/Hate, Manipulation, Misogyny, Obsessive Behavior, POV Alternating, Post-Game(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethirdil/pseuds/Ethirdil
Summary: These days, Courier Six is more a myth, an infamous legend haunting the Mojave and those who still remember her. A young girl, maybe too young to be a courier in the first place, some thought even then. Looking back, we know societies have collapsed in times that now seems ancient, and no society of note have yet fully managed to restore what had once been. Perhaps it is not possible. Perhaps those times in the history of humanity are forever gone?June's head was probably never really on straight, but those bullets must have done something spectacular with what was left inside her noggin'. 'Legion whore', 'turncoat', they call her in the NCR, but June had her reasons for doing what she did.
Relationships: Female Courier/Vulpes Inculta
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> As it's important to give credit where credit's due, this piece is inspired by the amazing authors Tystero (Ghosts of the Mojave, Synthesis) and LeeAtwater (Far From Any Road-series) among many others.

  
  
  
  


**Have You Forgotten Her?**  
(Beneath the headline is a somewhat blurred photograph of a young woman dressed in a red gown with long, blonde hair and a vague smile on her painted lips. She looks to be caught up in conversation with an unknown man dressed in a dark suit with a fedora covering most of his face. Photograph is taken in New Vegas, 2281.)

_“Can a democracy exist in a Wasteland filled with dangers, mutated or others, war and unhindered moral degradation?”  
“No, it cannot.”  
“Can a civilized society exist in a Wasteland?”  
“Yes, but how would you define ‘civilized’?”  
“What I mean is, do the ends, truly, justify the means?”  
“I suppose they will have to.”_  
\- Extract from Holotape recording 238-101, date: 01/17/2282, file: Parsons, June Mary-Louise. 

These days, Courier Six is more a myth, an infamous legend haunting the Mojave and those who still remember her. A young girl, maybe too young to be a courier in the first place, some thought even then. Looking back, we know societies have collapsed in times that now seems ancient, and no society of note have yet fully managed to restore what had once been. Perhaps it is not possible. Perhaps those times in the history of humanity are forever gone? 

The NCR did their best, but were eventually forced into a humiliating retreat back west, again soon safely hidden behind the tall California border. New Vegas, as we know all too well, fell and a slave army from the east sacked one of the last standing monuments of a dead world. The Lucky 38 and its proprietor, the former unofficial leader of the Vegas Strip was quickly leveled with the ground, along with several other grand landmarks in the entire vicinity. The bodies of NCR soldiers, our own men and women, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, were strung up on telephone poles along the Strip and those of the civilian population who refused surrender were executed on sight, at times through so gruesome a practice as public beheading. The dead bodies of Chairmen, Omertas and those of the White Glove Society hung from snares, thrown over balconies of the blown-out buildings surrounding the Strip. Mothers, sisters and daughters were raped before they were either killed or forced into slavery.  
And they say the Courier watched it all.

(Here is a black and white photograph taken when Courier Six met the former, now deceased NCR Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of New Vegas, Dennis Crocker. The Courier is sitting across from the Ambassador in his office and they are both turned towards the camera. The Ambassador is dressed in a light suit and is smiling with his hands clasped on his desk. The Courier is wearing a modest, dark dress and high heels. She is leaned back in her chair, unsmiling. Photograph is taken in New Vegas, January 2nd 2282.)

Courier Six was a girl, a woman, depending on who you ask; who watched.  
First at Hoover Dam, dressed in black like a mourning mother now forced to watch her sons and daughters fall to a hellish beast clawing its way through an army of the righteous. It wasn’t until the courier bowed down - perhaps in sorrow, some thought - and came back up with a rifle, unsecured it and began to point the red-glowing aim, herself descending upon the Californian army, that they all realized they had been duped.  
The body of our former President Kimball had barely been carried away and the rangers who surrounded the Dam, tried in vain to regain control of the situation. It was too late and the once famous young girl became infamous in a spectacular turn of events. And still, she mostly just watched, according to several sources. She did little of the brunt work; for that she had an army. An army filled with more than willing legionaries who ran through even the most veteran of our rangers with the force of their numbers. Courier Six had given the Legion maps of the underground tunnels stretching all the way from Hoover Dam to New Vegas and before the people there had any chance to understand what was truly happening, soldiers clad in crimson stormed up from the underground, hacking their way through any resistance they met with their jagged machetes. 

Courier Six had been at the Dam and was later escorted to the Strip along with Caesar (Edward Sallow, former NCR citizen, b. 2226) and his commanders to officially lay siege to the city. The remaining soldiers of the NCR had tried to flee, hoping the old, pre-war securitrons would take the brunt of the violence when all electricity failed and the securitrons along with every single lightbulb on the entire Strip died out. The Courier strode in beside the most notorious war criminals the world has seen since the great war and with a smile, she handed over the reins to the Legion’s Caesar and his Legate, and took a step back. 

To her side then, stood the commander of the Legion’s intelligence services Vulpes Inculta (background unknown, believed to be in his mid to late 30’s), the mind behind the atrocious massacres of Camp Searchlight, the towns Nelson and Nipton as well as later Camp Forlorn Hope and Camp Golf. Inculta is said to have nodded to her, before taking her by the arm and leading her away. The courier gave no resistance. 

(Shown below is never before seen photographs taken with a spy camera from within the Legion during the day of the occupation of New Vegas. From the left: Courier Six with Caesar as they inspect recently hanged Chairmen outside the Tops casino. Middle: Courier Six with Caesar’s commanders, overlooking the devastation. Right: Courier Six is lead away by Vulpes Inculta. She is seen dressed in the black clothes described from the Battle of Hoover Dam. Note: While being escorted away by Inculta, the courier appears to be smiling. Photographs are the property of the NCR army.)

Courier Six, born June Mary-Louise Parsons in Shady Sands, NCR, June 21st 2259, is now nowhere to be found. NCR officials formally conclude she is most possibly deceased or is kept strictly away from the public eye by Legion officials. From the latest gathered information, there have been no trace of the young woman. She is still wanted for war crimes of the highest degree, along with treason and sedition. 

They say we should never let history be forgotten, and still, who in Shady Sands speaks of Courier Six now? Is it still too new, too raw? An infestation into the very collective soul of the peoples of the NCR to imagine that one of our own truly could turn so spectacularly against us? We can still see her face every day around our larger cities closest to the border. Blonde hair and blue eyes, sketches of a woman, alongside those of the Legate Lanius and Vulpes Inculta. Yet, we still do not know what the latter two even looks like. 

I will tell you this, friends, that we must never forget! Be she dead or alive, the Legion continues to grow and soon they will spill into our lands. We can only hope that the girl they called Courier Six is no longer amongst them, for the wreckage she wrought during the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and during the occupation of southern Nevada through New Vegas, can never be forgiven, nor can it be forgotten. Be she still alive, all we can do is pray, and prepare. 

Article written by Angie Burrows, published in the Republic, June 5th 2284.

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _You just can't run from the funnel of love,  
>  It's gonna get you someday.  
> Here I go, falling down, down, down,  
> My mind is a blank,  
> My head is spinning around and around,  
> As I go deep into the funnel of love,  
> Deep into the funnel of love._  
> \- Wanda Jackson 'Funnel of Love'
> 
> Note: In this fic, weaker alcohol such as wine and beer is allowed and consumed moderately within the Legion. Medical chems such as Stimpaks are also allowed.

  
  
  
  
“I’d rather have stayed, you know.” June sighed as she put the newspaper down on the coffee cable inside the largest suite of the Ulta-Luxe, now converted into a separate home away from the home she had gotten used to in Flagstaff. “I don’t see what reason there should be for me to come back here, aside from your own selfishness and depravity.”   
Vulpes snorted from behind her where he stood wrapping his left hand and arm in black leather straps. 

June rose and glared at the slave standing in a corner further away, probably hoping to blend into the wall before either Vulpes or June noticed she truly existed. It was all in vain anyway, June knew exactly which slaves sat foot in her homes and when. 

“You’ve enough whores to satisfy you wherever you go. You don’t plan on dragging me along on that damned campaign west, are you? I’m tired of sand and heat.”   
Pulling on the leather around his arm, Vulpes walked up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her harshly to him. “That tongue of yours, I ought to rip it out.” He spoke close to her ear, inhaling her scent before he bit into her neck. 

June could feel him harden against her and she flung her hand in a quick gesture towards the slave, dismissing her. The slave quickly made herself scarce as June was bent over the couch in the center of the large room. He entered her without any preamble and June whimpered, closing her eyes as he wrapped a hand around her throat whilst holding her down with the other.   
“Don’t worry, Junia,” he said as he increased his short, brutal movements, groaning as skin smacked against skin, “There’s only one dissolute whore who can truly satisfy me.”   
June could feel herself become wet, her body responding to him like it always had, ever since she had met him the first time in Nipton. She loathed herself for it, and still, she couldn’t help herself. 

For once, he finished quickly. He had been summoned by Caesar in preparation for their western offensive. Two whole long years was nowhere near enough of peace and quiet for June and she would have been more than happy to stay in Flagstaff. There, she had finally been able to create the semblance of a life she had longed for as long as she could remember. A house with a garden, overlooking a truly beautiful city. She could focus on the things she liked, things she had longed for instead of having to trudge through deserts and plains delivering packages for people who never gave a damn about her in the first place. Instead of having to participate in wars she didn’t truly care about, fighting for people who meant nothing to her. 

In Flagstaff, she had created her own little world - and it was mostly peaceful. Especially after Vulpes was sent west again and left her to her own devices. It lasted for less than a year. He had called her back to New Vegas as soon as she was able to travel again, leaving their son in the hands of slaves and priestesses. June could murder him for it, but Vulpes knew she never would, and here she was. Back in New Vegas, back into a reality she had wanted to leave behind, even erase if she could. 

“I expect you to behave yourself while I’m away,” he said as he washed his genitals, rearranging his armor again. “We are to have dinner with our Lord later, you are expected to partake, at least until the entertainment arrives.”   
“Who else is there?” Junia sank down into the couch, clenching her thighs together until she could hobble over to the bathroom and clean herself properly. “Please not Antonia, I can’t fuckin’ stand her.”   
A hand fisted in her hair and pulled her up into a sitting position, before another smacked her right cheek. It stung, but wouldn’t leave a mark. “Language.” Vulpes hissed before releasing her again with a shove. June fell back into the couch and groaned with annoyance. “ _That_ , I can’t say I’ve missed. Don’t forget what I said about your tongue. I’m sure it’s more precious to you than it is to me.”   
June rolled her eyes and waved him away.   
“And yes, I imagine Caesar’s wife will be in attendance.” 

June considered throwing herself off of the balcony to get out of having to spend time with Caesar’s bloated nightmare of a wife. She couldn’t stand her. Pompous beyond words, it was a miracle Caesar himself hadn’t just set her aside or even murdered her. Maybe the brain tumor really had done something to his head. Vulpes told her he was beginning to become more visually tired, less alert. Such things came with age, she knew; but if she was to believe Vulpes, Caesar had put up with that bitch of his for soon to be twenty years. That, if anything, had been one of the worst disappointments when arriving in Flagstaff; being introduced to and forced to play nice with Antonia. 

As soon as Vulpes had left, June turned back to the newspaper Vulpes had presented to her. He had found it hilarious and read it out loud for her. June didn’t really care. That version of her was gone, discarded in theory as soon as she pledged herself to Caesar, in practice it was when they had taken New Vegas. 

June picked up the paper again, looking at the pictures of herself. The largest one placed just underneath the headline was a picture of her and Vulpes shortly after they had met. She had only just arrived on the Strip with Veronica and Arcade. It was almost laughable to think about now; a brotherhood scribe and a follower, and then her. As it said in the article, war criminal, traitor and agitator. The first two she could understand, even though she didn’t necessarily agree with them, but the third? She never gave any orders, never told anyone what to do. She was given power without ever wanting it and she decided to hand it over to the cause she felt was the only right one. 

House was in himself a crime against nature, prolonging his unnatural life in that disgusting incubator, only striving for his own power and preferring technology over humans.   
The NCR, well, that was personal. She had grown up in the NCR and it had done her little to no good. She grew up in Shady Sands, constantly in the presence of junkies and drug addled criminals. No one did anything about it, no one cared about a small girl with filthy hair and clothes who begged passersby for food. She had to work her way out of it and every goddamned day had been a battle. She’d had to fight to even get a basic education, steal to pay just to learn how to read so she could get a job instead of wasting her life away like her mother, constantly high on jet and earning the few caps she did by fucking strangers on street corners. When her mother had been found beaten to death by drunk NCR soldiers who weren’t satisfied with her services, June got the fuck out of there as fast as she could. She was 12 years old.

She understood that people in the NCR blamed her. She understood that the people of New Vegas had loathed her. And still, she wouldn’t have done anything differently, looking back. This world was horrible, a dog-eat-dog world and she had seen it up close, had lived in the misery that the higher ups in society never had to truly see, never had to live through. The NCR continue to talk their fancy talk about democracy and it’s all fine and well; but the world as it is, can’t handle democracy. It’s a long-lost dream from a bygone world and Caesar seems to be the only one who understands that, the only one who doesn’t live under the illusion still hanging on after 200 years of misery, living in the aftermath and ruins of an apocalyptic war. 

June wasn’t blind, neither was she brainwashed into supporting the Legion. She saw the slaves - still saw them - she knew what the legionaries did to women, knows what her husband does to women. There is no righteousness to it, there is nothing June can ever say to defend it other than that she is all too aware that it goes on everywhere. The NCR and other so called ‘democracies’ are just too proud and frightened to admit to it. They claim there are no slaves in California and still, a majority of the people living there are so poor they turn to chems, becoming dependent on criminal gangs of raiders and pimps, doing anything only to get their hands on some jet or psycho. In the meantime, those who manage to stay away from the chems, try their best to survive on salaries so low they can hardly pay their rent each month and are forced to turn to loan sharks just to feed their kids. 

What June did, the choices she made; she might well come to regret them some day. She doesn’t know, truly. However now, as it stands, two years after her actions at Hoover Dam and in New Vegas, she would still have done the same damn thing.   
She knows many people would never put up with the things she does in her everyday life. Veronica would sooner kill herself and Arcade had threatened to kill June for what she did. Still, he performed the operation on Caesar and as was promised, if Caesar survived, Arcade was free to go. June never told Vulpes of Arcade’s threat. He never did enjoy when others threatened his property. 

_Property_ , June tasted the word just as she had the first time she heard it. It still sounded strange and uncomfortable on her tongue. Looking at the photographs in the paper, she analyzed herself with the word in mind and came to the same conclusion she always did when deliberating the meaning of her role in the society she had freely entered. 

There was a duality there, in her. Everyone in the Legion was a slave. Every man, woman and child belonged to Caesar, to the ideology and the man who personified it. But as a woman, she was second to even that; she was not only the property of Caesar, she was first and foremost the property of the man who had taken her to wife. 

June never agreed to be the wife of Vulpes Inculta. She had been given, as spoils of war. Lanius had vied for her too, but June was already lost to her own absurd and destructive obsession. It was a mutual obsession. With June refusing to be given to the Legate, Caesar granted her that one favor. In reality, she had - stupidly enough - wished to live freely under Caesar. She should have known it was never to be and looking back, she had come to terms with it.   
Vulpes was a despicable man in more ways than he was a good man. He was a misogynistic sadist, a fucking arrogant asshole constantly lording over her with his holier-than-thou sanctimonious attitude. A murderer and a rapist who enjoyed torturing not only his slaves but her as well, just as much as he enjoyed her filthy mouth and how she fought back. But in the end, they both knew she was in all ways subservient to him and dependent on his every whim. She could fight until she collapsed, curse him until he actually made good on his threat of ripping out her tongue or eventually killing her, deliberately or by accident.

Still, the one saving grace she had was one thing that won his loyalty, and she had done it quickly. Not because he wanted to, but because it was one of her few wishes aside from a comfortable life in relative safety. She had given him a son. A beautiful, healthy son, with large blue eyes and sandy hair that had begun to turn the same light blonde shade June had had as a child. She could see much of Vulpes in their son too, his nose and cheekbones, the way he curled his mouth when he was dissatisfied or in a bad mood. Maybe he would inherit his father’s dark hair when he became older, perhaps his eyes would turn a few shades lighter, instead of June’s dark blue. Either way, they had created a beautiful child together, and perhaps more would come.   
They would grow up far away from the depravity of chem addicts and raiders, they would never see the filth and corruption that she had to suffer through as a child. She would do anything she could to give her children a different childhood, a positive one, to make them strong and secure, educated and brave. 

June put the paper away and waved for a slave to enter the room. The same girl who had stood pressed into the corner quickly entered, falling to her knees before June, bowing her head.   
“You heard him, there’s a dinner I must attend.” June said, “Prepare a bath and help me get ready. And send someone for something light to eat as well. I’m famished.”   
“Yes, domina.” The slave girl answered quickly, before scurrying away. June watched her leave with narrowed eyes. She was a small, pretty little moronic thing and had not followed her from Flagstaff. She came with the apartment, but hadn’t been here when June last was in New Vegas.   
_No matter_ , she thought and ran her hands through her hair, waiting for the tub to be filled so she could clean up properly. Her thighs felt sticky and itchy and it still felt as if she had sand stuck to her entire person from the travels. 

The slave girl turned out to be less useless than she looked and managed to brush June’s hair until it shone, pinning it up in large curls high on her head. It had been with more annoyance than longing for the man who called himself her husband that June had decided which clothes to bring with her from their home in Arizona. Now she stood wrapped in a sheer pink robe, trying to decide what to wear for the evening. The ‘free’ women of the Legion wore simpler versions of pre-war clothing, less ostentatious but not necessarily focused on practicality like some damn Mormon. Jewelry were scarce but June owned quite a lot of it. She had been gifted with much of it from both Vulpes and Caesar after the occupation as signs of respect. June doubted it was truly from respect, more a feeble and half-assed try to make her feel appreciated. Legion men weren’t all that different from every other man alive. 

June chose a knee-length dark red evening dress with a slim fit and marked waist. Its sleeves covered her arms down to her elbows, but left her shoulders and collarbones exposed. It suited her taller, more slim body and gave the illusion of more curves than she truly had. Sure, she had gained weight after she put down her rifle and ‘retired’; but she was still a slim woman.   
The dress was paired with equally dark red pumps and a set of small diamond earrings, just glistening slightly when the light hit their reflection. Looking at herself in the mirror, June approved of the slave girl's work. She had done well, especially with her hair. If Vulpes ended up killing this one whilst June was here, she’d be pretty damn disappointed. 

Caesar had turned one of the large luxury hotels between the Tops and Gomorrah into his personal mansion and office. A legionary guard escorted June there later in the evening. 

Stepping out into the evening darkness, the Strip still looked amazing. Instead of neon lights draping the city in unnatural signs of degeneration, there was oil-lamps burning outside every building and along the streets. In every corner stood guards, watching over the masses of people that had arrived to the Legion’s new capital after the battle.   
People came not only from lands already held by the Legion, they also came as refugees from the NCR, seeking a safer living or as traders or tourists. The local businesses in New Vegas no longer provided casinos, clubs or brothels like they had before, instead they sold useful things along with opening eateries and restaurants.   
The different areas of the Strip had changed as well. Now they had an arena, built surprisingly quick were the Lucky 38 used to stand, towering above all other buildings. Around the fountain outside the Ultra-Luxe now stood a market where you could buy all kinds of fresh vegetables, fruit and other foodstuff, grown on the collective farms just outside the Strip.   
In a smaller building connected to the row of houses following the old vault you could find a butcher, a tailor, hairdresser and barber. Several bakers where spread out over the city, along with many other necessities that simply weren’t seen here before.   
Close to what had once been the NCR’s embassy was the slave market. The slaves were housed in the embassy and sold in the courtyard outside it during Tuesdays and Thursdays every week. 

There had been a few small businesses in Freeside when June had arrived two years ago, but they were constantly hassled by gangers and junkies. Now, Freeside was a thriving place for the local population that had submitted willingly to the Legion. Many living in Freeside worked on the Strip or in the hospital that had been erected where the Old Mormon Fort used to be. There was no longer any threat from junkies, petty criminals or gangsters - and the fiends outside the city walls had quickly been handled with a few well aimed missiles. 

New Vegas was beginning to look beautiful. It was still not close to Flagstaff with its white and sand-colored buildings with arched windows and red flags proudly waving in the winds, lush gardens and many fountains that helped cool people in the heat, but it was going in the right direction, certainly. 

Arriving at what had used to be the Bellagio hotel, June was greeted by Praetorians and brought into the elevator and taken up to the top floor where Caesar resided. The Praetorian informed her that Caesar and his officers were still in session but that she was invited to wait with the other wives and women. 

June rolled her eyes where she stood behind the towering guard but held back her sigh. She was to behave when in public. She had certainly learned that the hard way in the beginning. Vulpes enjoyed her personality, at times. In public neither he nor any other Legion man would stand for and uppity, puckish woman. _Seems like Antonia never got that memo_ , June thought as she entered the large presidential suite with a faked smile on her lips and was welcomed by an all too painted Antonia. She reeked of perfume and wore a too tight dress, squeezing her excessive bulk into a strange shape. Everything about that woman was grandiose and just… too much. She acted meek and controlled enough when men were present, but as soon as all the women were alone, she was the absolute worst. And a gossip.   
June wasn’t interested in gossip and she certainly wasn’t interested in speculating about what husband had a new mistress or what had happened to this and that slave. 

“Junia, please, come! Come!” Antonia kissed her on the cheeks and led her into the large living room where the other women sat sipping watered wine, snacking on bread and fruit.   
_So it’s to be a large dinner, then_ , June thought as she greeted them all with a demure smile and sat down, accepting a glass of wine and sipping it slowly. Alcohol was generally frowned upon inside the Legion, but wine and beer were considered weak enough to be allowed, especially wine when it was watered down. It held a ceremonial purpose and was far less detrimental than chems or stronger alcohol and was enjoyed during meals and festivites. 

“Did you just arrive in the City?” asked Martina, the wife of Lucius, the head of the Praetorian guard. She was about the same age as June, but had been married to Lucius for at least 10 years, having been more close to a child when married off to a man more than twice her own age. She wasn’t even 25 and had six children. “How come you always manage to look so put together? I can’t even begin to imagine how you do it.”   
“Yes, Junia, what’s your secret?” Antonia winked at her, drinking deep from her glass of wine.   
June smiled, controlling herself as she crossed her legs and straightened her dress. “I’ve no secrets.” She said, cocking her head. “Just good slaves.”   
“Ha, ha!” Antonia laughed, raising her glass. “To good slaves!” 

The rest of the women raised their glasses as well and June wanted to strangle each and every one of them. Lanius’s latest wife sat in the corner of the same couch as June. She said nothing, only stared into space while clutching her glass of wine, as if she was a life-sized doll just waiting to break and finally being thrown away. June wondered how long she would last. 

When the men finally were done and they all had been seated, June buried her nails in Vulpes’s thigh under the table. If she could have, she would have torn a piece of flesh from him in anger. What had taken them so long? She had been suffering for over an hour with those cackling hens, watching as Antonia got more and more drunk. Now she sat swaying to the right of Caesar, trying but subsequently failing at dinner. 

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.” June hissed to Vulpes as he drank from his glass of wine. The hint of a smile touched his thin lips as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.   
“Will you now?” He grabbed her hand from under the table and bent open her fingers, moving her hand further up, pressing it to his groin.   
“ _Stop it_!” June flung her hand away, straightening herself. When she looked up, she noticed Lanius’ eyes on her. She tried not to grimace and looked away, moving closer to Vulpes in a hint not all too subtle, but subtle enough Lanius wouldn’t notice or for that matter, care. In a society where you murdered your superior to get their job, they weren’t all too picky about what belonged to whom, unless it was someone lower trying and failing at aiming too high. Lanius left June alone, not because Vulpes had claimed her, but because Caesar had ordered it. 

Vulpes hummed, letting a hand rest on her thigh as he picked up a conversation with Lucius, sitting to his right. June focused on her food, silently watching the people around her. 

After some time, Caesar raised his voice, calling out for June.   
“My Lord?” she answered, straightening up and putting her glass down.   
“How is it being back? I’ve understood you have taken well to Flagstaff, as was expected.” Caesar said, leaning on an elbow and watching her intently.   
“It’s a beautiful city, my Lord.” June smiled, an honest smile this time. “I am glad to be back, however I must admit I miss our son.”   
“It’s difficult for women to be separated from their children.” Lucius weighed in, his dark blue eyes watching her. June nodded in agreement.   
“It was time for him to be taken by the priestesses,” Vulpes said, his voice soft but cold. “The sooner, the better. She will have more sons.”   
“Indeed,” Caesar laughed, “Are you satisfied with the privilege you’ve received, Courier?”   
_Courier_ , would she ever stop being referred to by a job title she didn’t even want to begin with? “I am, my Lord.”   
“Good, good.” Caesar gave a thoughtful twist of his lips. “We will talk more. Later.”   
June looked to Vulpes, who nodded. “Of course.”

Before the evening’s entertainment arrived, the women where as usual herded out, unless their husbands for some reason wished them to stay and watch or partake. Vulpes had forced her to a few times in the past and June was thankful he mostly allowed her to decided what she wanted now. It was in no way anything she hadn’t seen before, but June had never appreciated situations were wine flowed freely and women were used and abused like cattle. It didn’t matter if it was Legion or NCR - it happened everywhere. At times, there were dancers from ancient tribes who were fascinating and enticing to watch, but in all honesty, mostly it was one large orgy accompanied with an auction where the prettiest slaves where either sold or given as prizes and then openly abused. 

As the women began to leave and June moved to stand, Vulpes grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. Caesar rose and waved for the two of them to follow. The Legate followed, as well as Lucius and a few other commanders. June was brought into a smaller room filled with armchairs, a couch and a large oak desk. This had to be Caesar’s office.   
Caesar sat down behind the desk and the Legate stood to his side. Lucius sat down in an armchair behind them and Vulpes let go of June’s arm, standing a few steps to her side, behind her. June frowned, looking back at her husband, wondering what was going on. 

“My Lord?”   
“Courier, you will listen.” The Legate’s booming voice sounded. He was a frightening man, the Legate. June was no longer especially frightened by any of the men of the Legion, not like she had been to begin with. Her first impressions of them had come from Vulpes’ massacre at Nipton and even though she had agreed to his actions and found them necessary, she had been shaking from fright the entire time. Slaughter, it was something you had to get used to. Few took to it naturally. The Legate did. 

“I assume Vulpes have told you about our western campaign,” Caesar said and June nodded, licking her lips. “The Legion seldom utilizes women in warfare, unless it’s for intelligence purposes and unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you choose to view it, yours is a face still very much remembered within the NCR.”   
“I believe they seek to prosecute me for crimes of war, Lord Caesar. Should they take me alive.”   
“They are profligates, they don’t understand the true workings of the world and the powers that guides it. Mars has spoken to me, Courier.” Caesar spoke. “We have waited for two years and in the meantime, we have built a capital fit for a new era. Our forces grow every day and just three days ago, I got word that we have conquered our 103rd tribe in New Mexico, close to the Texan border. Texas is a wasteland, a majority of its area destroyed and unfit for humans and all things natural so we will not put our focus there. The NCR however, we still have unfinished business there. The problem is, they hide behind a very tall wall and while our army has grown, so has theirs. A regular attack will be pointless and instead, we will have to hit them where it hurts, even the field, so to say. Mars has a role for you in this.” 

June frowned, an unsettling feeling spreading along her spine. She had done her bit in helping them take Vegas. She wasn’t a soldier, nor was she a spy. Her face was too well-known, she would be arrested on sight. Arrested on… _No, no, no, NO!_ June began to shake her head, turning to look at Vulpes.   
“Please, tell me this isn’t…” June urged, but Vulpes’ eyes were cold, his expression like stone. “I won’t do it!” She protested, turning back to Caesar. “All I’ve done for you, all I’ve given - and you’re asking me to do _this_!”   
“What am I asking you, Junia?” Caesar rose from his chair, leaning on his hands over the desk. 

June bristled, feeling shock turning to anger.  
“Oh, I know my husband perfectly well my Lord,” she seethed and looked over her shoulder. “I can smell one of his little masterplans coming a mile off. You motherfucker!” June lashed out, punching Vulpes in the throat with her elbow. He hardly even moved an inch and the result of her lashing out, hit her over a cheekbone faster than she could even think to regret her choice of words.   
She felt bone crack as Vulpes’s knuckles connected with her cheek and she stumbled back. A hand grabbed her around her throat and her back hit the floor. 

“What was that, little wife?” June opened her eyes, trying to pull air into her lunges, but her throat only contracted, making her cough. She meet Vulpes’ icy gaze just above her as he held her down. Hearing steps to her right, she tried to turn her head to see if perhaps the Legate had decided to take over, administrating what he deemed as proper punishment for obstinate women. Instead she saw Caesar standing to their side, his arms crossed over his chest. 

With a sigh, he spoke. “Aside from a nice ass and a good pair of tits, I honestly do not comprehend what it is you see in this woman, Vulpes. However, if you can get her under control, we will proceed as planned.”   
Vulpes rose from kneeling over her, grabbing her hair and pulling her up beside him, an arm holding her in an iron grip against him.   
“Do not worry, my Lord. She will do your will,” Vulpes said, “My wife appears to be confused and tired, perhaps I should see to it that she gets home for a well needed rest.”   
_Oh, fuck you, you goddamned asshole_! June thought as she stared at Caesar with a defiance she hadn’t managed to achieve in years. Caesar leaned back in his chair, giving Vulpes a tired wave. 

Vulpes more or less carried her out of the office and then out of the suite. When they arrived to the elevator, he threw her to the floor, standing above her and glaring daggers at her, his knuckles white as he clasped his hands.   
“Was that truly necessary?”   
“Fuck you! They’ll fucking kill me if I even set foot over the border, no questions asked!” June hissed from the floor, a bloodied little heap of woman in a now dirtied dress and with tousled hair. “You _know_ that, and still, _still_ you’re going to force me to do this. You’re a fucking hypocrite Vulpes, a god damned liar and a fucking horrible man! Why don’t you just put a bullet in my head?”   
Vulpes crouched down before her and cocked his head, looking at her with emotionless eyes. “You’re no use to me with a bullet in your skull, Junia.”   
She spat in his face and then refused to look at him for the rest of the night. He didn’t care. He sauntered after her all the way home, as if he had her on a leash and when they finally, _finally_ had arrived back home to the Ultra-Luxe, he raped the slave girl in their bed, forcing June to sit by the bed the entire time. The girl screamed and cried, and June sat there, silent as a pillar with dry eyes and an aching cheek. 

_Still no regrets?_ A voice whispered in the back of her head as she watched Vulpes Inculta, her husband, the father of her son, force his way into an already bleeding all too young slave with his hands wrapped around her throat.   
_I just hope she survives_ , June thought. _I liked what she did with my hair._  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

** Breaking news: Woman identified as Courier Six arrested inside NCR **

(Beneath the headline is a blurred photograph of a blonde woman being brought into custody alongside two men. The woman is bruised and dirty with tousled hair, wearing torn jeans and a too large black t-shirt. A military police officer is trying to cover her face by holding up a newspaper to shield her. The two men are dressed in similar clothing as the woman, both of them have shaved heads and on one of the men you can see what has been identified as a slave brand on his neck.)

**Saturday** : June Mary-Louise Parsons, commonly known as Courier Six was arrested on Saturday two miles east of Shady Sands by Military Police. According to sources within the NCR military, Parsons claims to be fleeing from Legion controlled lands. Accompanying her were two legionaries of unknown origins. All three will be prosecuted in a court of law and are at this point in time held inside a maximum-security NCR military prison.   
Parsons was born in Shady Sands in 2259 and defected from the NCR during the events leading up to the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, effectively leading to the Legion’s victory and their subsequent occupation and massacre of New Vegas and its adjacent territories. Parsons is wanted for war crimes and treason.


	4. Chapter 4

The metal from the cuffs cut into her skin as she was lead down several long corridors in what had to be a newly built concrete bunker underneath what she could only assume was the military headquarters inside the capital. She had lost track of where they had taken her and after arriving in the city center east, she had kept her eyes down to avoid the gathering of press and people cursing her and spitting at her as soldiers - one on each side of her, holding on to her arms - lead her inside. One officer had tried to shield her with a newspaper as they walked her inside, but June figured it did little. The press had screamed for comments, accusing her of anything under the sun; it wouldn’t surprise her if they’d even shouted ‘Witch! Witch!’ as she was quickly led through the masses. 

As was planned, June with Cato and Tullus - the two Frumentarii that accompanied her and acted as deserting legionaries - had been apprehended just south of the Ranger base Camp Deep Springs a few miles outside Shady Sands. June knew the area well enough and so did her two companions. June was bruised up, her cheekbone still hadn’t healed properly, looking like she had been through hell and claiming she had just wanted to go home. The rangers and the military police asked little questions and instead focused on getting them to Shady Sands, but not before roughing them up a little more. A welcome gift of sorts, June supposed. 

The soldiers holding her arms deposited her at a metal table, searched her for the umpteenth time before shoving her into the chair, threading a chain through her cuffs and finally anchored her to the table. They did the same to her feet. Both the chair and the table looked to be molded into the cement floor.   
It took a moment, but eventually a man dressed in what looked like higher rank uniform arrived and sat down across from her, looking at her for a second or two before bring up a manilla folder from a briefcase. 

“My name is Lieutenant Marshal Anderson. Do you know why you are here?”   
June looked up and met the man’s eyes. He was around 40 years of age and had tanned skin and dark features. He looked annoyed, something June could perhaps, maybe, sympathize with. She was pretty annoyed too. 

June sighed and then shrugged, picking at her nails.   
The man’s irritated frown deepened and he grunted, leaned back in his chair and put the manilla folder on the table.   
“Why did you do it?” he asked and June raised an eyebrow.   
“Hm?”   
“Why did you do it? Switch to their side?”   
June gave a small smile, swallowing before she cleared her throat. “I’m going to assume you’re not my lawyer seeing as you belong to the Military Police. From what I remember when my mother was beaten to death by your asshole psycho soldiers, lawyers didn’t go paradin’ about in uniforms. I’m not saying shit until you exercise some of that democratic freedom you’re so god damned proud of in this shithole.”   
“Who said anything about traitors and war criminals getting lawyers?” Lieutenant Anderson got a dark look in his eyes as he watched her, a small, smug smile appearing on his thick lips. “Had the roles been reversed, you’d be on a cross by now.”   
“Crosses aren’t as common as you’d think,” June gave a vague smile, “It’s very time-consuming erecting perfectly balanced crosses, not to mention making them. The Malpais Legate was known for liking the sight of burning crosses. Telephone poles are a preferable for those more pragmatic, as they are quite… Common. In my experience. And-“ Lieutenant Anderson was about to speak, but June interrupted him interrupting her, holding up a finger as best she could from their cuffs. “-women are seldom crucified. We are sold as slaves, or used for, well… Manual labor, you could say. Childbearing is of great importance and as such, it would be foolish to waste fertile women like that.”

Lieutenant Anderson looked at her with disgust as he cleared his throat after a moment of silence, before he straightened up and leaned his elbows on the table, thumbing the manilla folder. 

“Considering you are fleeing from them, you don’t seem to be in all that much distress.”  
June stared at him before she spoke, “What? Do you want me to cry and wail about rapists, abuse? All the horrors I’ve seen and been put through?”   
“Why else would you flee from something you yourself chose?” The Lieutenant frowned, a serious expression on his face.   
“What do you know about the behaviors of long-time abuse and rape victims, officer? Are you a psychologist now, and not just a high-ranking soldier? Or have you yourself been severely abused? So much so, that all you feel is rage and bitterness and all you want is to go back to the one place you know that might resemble a home?” She paused, waiting for a reaction. Lieutenant Anderson’s eyes fell to the table and June snorted. “Nah, didn’t think so.”  
Looking both uncomfortable and put off, he cleared his throat again, “A lawyer will be here to see you shortly, miss-“   
“Mrs.” June spat, glaring with a faked smile on her lips. “Happily married these days.”   
Lieutenant Anderson grimaced and brought out a pencil from a pocket on his shirt, seemingly making a note in his papers. “Mrs, what?”   
June shrugged.   
“What is your husband’s name? Is one of the men accompanying you your husband? Cato Hostilius, or …Tullus?” He was beginning to become frustrated, even though he tried to hide it. Shame from shaming a victim is embarrassing. But June didn’t mind, she had been shamed and frustrated for quite some time and she still had fucking sand everywhere and if she managed to get out of this alive, she might just truly kill Vulpes when he slept. Maybe she’d redirect a few nuclear missiles over their apartment in New Vegas, who knew? “Well?”

June snorted as she smiled, looking at the lieutenant. “Do you truly think they would give Courier Six to a lowly soldier, Lieutenant? No, neither Cato nor Tullus is my husband. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Just fucking write Mrs. June Parsons. It’ll do. I’m sure my husband will get over the insult if he ever finds out.”   
Lieutenant Anderson shook his head I exasperation and made a note in the papers. “Trust me, Mrs. Parsons, we will find out - one way or another. That is one of the advantages of democracies, we hold trials.”   
“I’m counting on it.” June said with a smile and leaned back against her chair. 

The Lieutenant huffed before stomping out of the room and June was left alone for a long while. When the door opened again, another man entered, also dressed in uniform. This one seemed to have an even higher rank than Lieutenant Anderson. Perhaps she ought to take it as a compliment, considering they’re bringing in the big guns for little ol’ her. 

June soon understood why this man was here, she only had to glance at his name tag beneath the marks of his rank.   
“Major Curtis,” June drawled, looking into the Frumentarius’ dark eyes.   
“Junia,” Picus sat down across from her where Lieutenant Anderson had sat before. “The surveillance cameras are shut down for a few moments, though we don’t have long. I received word from Inculta and so far everything has gone according to plan. We are awaiting further reinforcements to make their way inside the city. You sit tight and for the love of Mars, stop agitating the officers.”   
Junia rolled her eyes, “Anything else?”   
“The eyes of the great Caesar are upon you Junia, follow your instructions and do not stray and all will be well. It will take some time to get things in motion, but your arrival has caused enough distraction for now.”   
“Is _he_ here?”   
Picus looked at her in silence for a moment before he answered, “Yes.”   
June nodded, licking her lips. “When you meet _him_ , tell him I will murder him before I’ll ever let him fuck me again.”   
Picus gaped at her for a moment before he chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. Handsome man, Picus. “Are you sure?” 

She held out her hands as much as she could in the universal gesture of ‘Who knows?’.   
Picus stood with an eyebrow cocked before he resumed the mask of Major Curtis again and gave her one last, long look. “Don’t fuck this up.”   
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” June mumbled, clenching her jaw. 

She missed home. She didn’t want to sit here in this miserable bunker a second longer, and still, she knew she could be here for quite some time. She hadn’t even been assigned to a cell yet. She missed her son and her stupid traitorous heart also missed _him_. Love was truly the worst thing imaginable. What it did to people, it was horror. It was destructive, fanatical and just so very, very strange. The bullets Benny put in her head had truly scrambled her mind in a majorly fucked up way. That was the truth. June remembered plenty from before and she might not have been the most level-headed or normal person out there, but she hadn’t gone and fallen for an unapologetic sadist before. _That_ happened after. 

There was just something magical about him that she never really could put her finger on. One second she absolutely loathed him and she could feel the itch in her trigger finger, trying to guide her to just end it, violently.   
She’d had dreams of silently getting up in the middle of the night and grabbing a knife from the kitchen, then heading back to their bedroom and stab him until her arms couldn’t lift the knife from fatigue.   
Then, as if confronted with an exploding bomb of his still warm, crimson blood, the thought of him no longer existing by her side made her feel the most all-consuming sorrow imaginable. She couldn’t live without him. And still, she couldn’t fucking live with him without getting beaten up, played and abused until she fucking lost it. He was like a mean Night Stalker, playing with his food until the poor little fool he hunted was almost completely drained. Then, for fun, he fed it and nursed it back to health, only to sink his claws in again when the fool expected it the least. 

June had completely lost track of time when a lawyer showed up. All she knew was that her wrists and ankles hurt and she had lost feeling in her ass and her back was stiff. Sitting by your lonesome in an almost empty, concrete grey room with too bright lights was depressing. What made it even worse was her thoughts. She knew herself, as soon as she’d started, she couldn’t stop. 

So, when a woman with dark skin dressed in a smart pant suit stepped in, holding manilla folders and a briefcase, June was in no mood to argue.   
The woman sat down across from her like everyone else before her and began spreading out her papers and folders. She didn’t even look at June until she was ready and then she started right off the bat. No small talk, no ‘How have they treated you?’. 

“My name is Michelle Sigurd and I’m your defense lawyer. I have specialized in cases like yours, though I find it difficult to remember any case with as serious implications as yours.”   
_You don’t say?_ June thought, but remained quiet as the woman shuffled her papers.   
“You are June Mary-Louise Parsons, born June 21st 2259 in Shady Sands, NCR. Citizen number 2259 029-3121, correct?”   
“Yes.” June answered.   
“Your mother was Helen Miller Parsons born 2234 in Utah, found murdered in 2271?”  
“Yes.”   
“Your father?”   
June shrugged, “Who knows.”   
“I see.” Michelle scrawled some notes in her folder. “You told Lieutenant Anderson that you are married. To whom?”   
“That’s irrelevant.” 

Michelle frowned before licking her lips. “Mrs Parsons, what you say to me is confidential. Unless it can help your case, what you tell me will not leave this room. And I must implore you to tell me everything you can. The NCR is all too aware of what the Legion does to women they capture, but you defected willingly. They will not be so understanding unless there are mitigating circumstances. Should it be that you were, say, coerced into this or forced, it might make things easier for you. It might even reduce your sentence from the death penalty to life in prison.”   
“It’s irrelevant.” June repeated and she could see the air going out of her lawyer.   
“You are Courier Six and considering your refusal to answer my question, I would guess that you were given to someone high up, unless you yourself chose it. Who are you protecting? Because by the looks of you and the reason for why you are here, it does not seem that they were doing a very good job of protecting you.” 

June picked at her nails as Michelle spoke, now averting her gaze. She was tired. So tired she could have fallen asleep sitting. The woman across from her didn’t stop talking and the more she talked, the more it started to sound like incessant nagging. _Bla, bla, bla, tell me, tell me, tell me…_ After too long, June had had enough.   
“I have a son!” she snarled, “Who do you think I’m protecting? Do you see a child here with me? Exactly. I think you can figure out the rest. Now will you shut up and just have them take me to my cell? This goddamn meeting is over.” 

June wasn’t brought to a cell, instead she was brought to see a doctor.   
The doc turned out to be her long lost former friend Arcade and June literarily tried to turn on her heels as soon as she saw him, but only met the heavily armored chest of a soldier and was forced to turn back around again. Arcade didn’t look as shocked as she did. He’d probably heard she was here, maybe he’d even asked to see her, for whatever reason. June knew he would be in the NCR, but she figured he would have made his way further west, or even north up towards Arroyo. 

“Six,” Arcade said when the soldier accompanying her had forced her to sit down on the hospital cot. He looked concerned and his voice sounded breathy, as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes.   
“You’re alive.” June said, trying and failing to smile.   
“So are you.”   
“Surprised?”   
“Honestly?” Arcade’s shoulders sank a little, “Yes and no. After everything… Jesus, Six. And Christ, what have they done to you?” 

She had almost forgotten about her cheek and the other bruises. One of the rangers had clocked her straight between the eyes, thankfully missing her still cracked cheek.   
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Arcade began looking her over, touching her throat and neck and face. When he reached her cheek, June pulled away from him, looking away. “Don’t, please.”   
“Who did this, Six? This isn’t recent. Which one of those damn bastards did this? It could be fucking broken! How long has it been like this?”   
“I-“, June shook her head, “Please, Arcade. Don’t be nice to me. You know how this ends, I’ve made my choices, you and me both know it.”   
“Right,” Arcade sat back in his chair, nodding with a condescending grimace, watching her with skepticism. “Wouldn’t want the degenerate sodomite touching his things, huh? That’s what you are now, isn’t it? What you chose? Did you finally wake up from your psychosis, or is he - god forbid - dead? Is that why you ran? No more protection from the other beasts who wasn’t as fucking obsessed with you?” 

June turned to the soldier standing behind her looking uncomfortable. “I’m fine, please take me to my cell.”   
“Regulations says you need to have a full medical.” The soldier answered.   
“I want another doctor.”   
“We can’t-“   
“It’s fine,” Arcade said and stood. “I’ll send for a female. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable due to your situation.”   
Glaring at Arcade and his sarcasm, June just sat and waited. She said nothing more to Arcade. 

It took another hour before she was finally locked inside her cell. It was a small room with a narrow bed hanging from the wall, a toilet and a faucet over it. Sparse, but not too bad. They had turned down the lights and as June lay down on the bed, she focused her thoughts on her son.   
_Darius_ , where was he now? Such a little thing so far away from her. Her heart ached for him, for his thick cheeks and small, pudgy hands. For the way his head smelled just after she’d brought him from his crib and the downy feeling of his sand colored hair against her lips. She felt as if half of her being was missing just thinking about him, about them. How they sat together in their garden in Flagstaff.   
Vulpes had arrived just days after Darius was born and for a handful of days, they had almost been a normal family. Both of them completely caught up in this new little being, a mixture of the both of them. Genes mixed and through that creating something better, something wonderful. 

After that first day, very little happened for quite some time. June got used to sitting in her cell. Once every few days she was taken out on small walks inside an enclosure. Food was delivered to her cell twice a day, due to security measures. The soldiers liked to try to humiliate her by calling her ‘Legion whore’ or ‘traitor’ and such things, but June didn’t care. At least they couldn’t beat her up. There were cameras everywhere.   
She asked for a book or two and a bible arrived as some sort of mockery two days later. June didn’t mind, her mother was from Utah, after all. Not that June had ever followed that faith, and neither did her mother, who had escaped Utah and finally settled in Shady Sands to live her completely miserable life there instead. Better chems, probably. 

She read through the Book of Psalms first. Then she read the Book of Daniel. She tried to read two of the Gospels, but tired of them. Instead, she read the Book of Job.   
_”Finally his wife said to him: ‘Are you still holding firmly to your integrity? Curse God and die!’ But he said to her: ‘You are talking like one of the senseless women. Should we accept only what is good from the true God and not accept also what is bad?’ In all of this, Job did not sin with his lips.”_

June read the quote several times and found she agreed. She also found it completely ironic that an NCR soldier had given her this book as some sort of show of moral superiority. She had seldom met more devout people than those of the Legion. They worshipped other gods, of course, but they followed certain moral principles, principles this world seemed to have forgotten or just decided to ignore once the bombs fell.   
June also knew well enough that one of the Legion’s founders, the Malpais Legate had been a Mormon to begin with and had reverted back to it again after his literal fall from grace. 

Joshua Graham, the Burned Man. She knew Vulpes really didn’t want to kill him, even though he sent plenty of assassination squads north to Zion. Even June knew where to find the Malpais Legate and he wasn’t immortal. You could kill him like any other man. The Legion just couldn’t agree on whether or not he should truly die, once and for all. Or, Vulpes didn’t agree and so sent plenty of recruits to find the reformed man in the north. They never came back. 

It was easy enough to see that the Legion’s teachings were part Caesar’s and part Joshua’s. The Legion valued the collective, loyalty and integrity. You had to have faith in your cause, something the NCR lacked completely, even though they thought they had plenty of it just by existing. But you could ask any NCR soldier in the Mojave how he liked patrolling there - and it wouldn’t be a satisfied or rallying answer. June had sat down with Chief Hanlon at Camp Golf. He was a truly astonishing person in many ways and she understood his frustrations completely. He had sacrificed a lot, and for what?   
If you instead asked legionaries what they thought about patrolling the Mojave and the upcoming war, you were met with devotion to Caesar, a true belief in their cause. 

The NCR claimed so few men defected and deserted from the Legion because they were threatened with violence if they did. Was it any different in the NCR? From what June knew, they punished deserters with a firing squad or public hanging. Deserting legionaries were beaten to death by their officer or comrades. It instills fear, yes. But so does a bullet to the head when your hands are tied and you’ve got a bag over your head. June knew that from personal experience.   
Fact is, so few defected from the Legion because from early in training they are taught to rely on each other and through that, they learn loyalty and devotion. They have lived as Tribals, uneducated and savage and when they are met with the light of the Legion, they understand what society can be and become. 

There are bad things to every society and the NCR is completely hung up on the slavery part of the Legion, and June agrees, slavery is unfortunate, but so is poverty. It’s only another kind of slavery framed as a false sense of freedom to do what you want. It isn’t true, none of it is. 

June had to work to become who she was - and who she is now. Is wasn’t easy and it took time. She had to be determined. Even the lowliest slave within the Legion can work their way up to commander.   
Where did the NCR think the Legion’s commanders, officers and soldiers came from? They were more or less all slaves to begin with. Boys who were brought up from carrying water between tents and cleaning pots, to fighting with machetes and surviving in the wildness of the wastes. Through hard training, mercilessly pushing them constantly forward the Legion had created soldiers who could withstand heavily armed soldiers in combat armor with endless bullets - themselves only clad in some light armor and a machete. It wasn’t too hard to do the math there. 

No, they couldn’t change her mind. They tried. Her lawyer tried, as well as Arcade who unfortunately came to visit her once more. Picus came as well, to update her on what was going on and to deliver a heavy concealed package that June hid beneath a loose tile in the floor. The package had a soft hum to it, tiny vibrations. June hated the trust she was forced to put in her husband and his men as she slept a few feet from that insistent, silent hum. She wondered if Cato and Tullus were as frustrated by the thought as she was. Probably not. 

After two weeks, June was informed Michelle Sigurd was dead. Natural causes. She had gone to sleep one evening and never woke up and was found the next day by her husband who had slept beside her the whole night. The doctors suspected a fatal cardiac arrhythmia.   
A new lawyer was assigned to June and when she asked about the lawyer, it seemed none of the guards or the soldiers she met regularly knew who it was. All they did was to tell her to shut up and stop bothering them. June was left to stew for a few more days before she was brought into the little too bright, too grey room with the molded table and chair. She was cuffed and chained to the table, again, but at least she’d had a lot of time to sleep, even though little sleep had come to her in that cell. 

Her new lawyer took their time to show up and June sat staring into the somewhat dented and scraped metal of the table, trying to follow the marks with her fingers only to focus on something other than her general boredom. When the lock on the door clicked, June slumped back into her chair, staring down on the table. In the corner of her eye she could see a dark suit and soon a fedora landed on the table along with a briefcase.   
“It seems you have let yourself go a bit, my dear. Tsk, tsk.” 

June’s eyes shot up, meeting the icy blue cold eyes of her husband. For a moment all she could do was stare, not knowing if she had finally lost it, gone completely doolally from being locked up for two weeks. But no, it was him. When she had collected herself, she couldn’t help but to laugh. She leaned back in her chair and just laughed for a moment, her hair spilling into her face and tears running from her eyes, but she didn’t care. When she looked at him, she could see that small, enigmatic smile pulling at his lips as he watched her, sitting in his usual relaxed pose. June smiled brightly and for all that she was still extremely upset with him, she’d never loved him this much in her life. 

“No cameras?” She asked, biting her lower lip.   
Vulpes shook his head slowly, still smiling.   
“You don’t happen to have a matching key to these damned cuffs?” 

Rising from his chair, he walked over to her and from a pocket, he pulled up a skeleton key and her cuffs fell open. June stood and threw her arms around him, jumping up into his arms.   
“Fuck, I’ve missed you so damn much. You goddamned asshole!” she hissed in his ear, clawing into his hair as she buried her face against his neck.   
“You doubted me?” He sat her down on the table and pulled back slightly, resting his hands on her spread thighs. “You know I don’t appreciate that.”   
June shook her head, “No, no, not you. Just this whole situation, I was beginning to think I was going crazy being locked in here, without anyone. I’ve never even seen Cato or Tullus, only Picus and I don’t know him. And I hate being here, hate being surrounded by these liars and hypocrites.”   
Vulpes nodded slowly, licking his lips. “From what I’ve seen, you done well. A little too… Uncouth, for my taste, maybe. At least when I’m not here to punish you for it.”   
“What, I should behave when around these cretins?” June reached in between them, easily working his belt open and quickly moving to the fly of his slacks.   
Vulpes hummed, leaning down over her and pushing her back on the table.   
“Picus delivered your message. How do you plan on killing me this time, hm?”   
“I’ve forgiven you,” June sighed as her bland, ugly inmate pants where pulled down from her hips. “For now.”   
“Have you now?” He almost purred before quickly turning her around, pushing her face down into the table.   
With a tight grip of her hair and a steady hand on her back, pressing her down, he entered her. June was wet in what felt like an instant, surprising even herself as she moaned silently when he was fully inside her. His movements were gentle even though his hands were brutal. Having him inside her made her feel hole and when he pulled her up, holding her tightly against him as he fucked her, pressing his lips against hers so hard their teeth clashed, she almost lost her balance completely. Hoisting up a knee on the table, June fell forward as his hand founds its way to her center, touching her with the efficiency and experience only a lover could. She reached down and pressed against his hand, asking him silently for more pressure, more of _everything_.   
“Please,” she moaned in a whisper, biting down on her lower lip to stay as silent as possible. “I’m so close.”   
A hand fisted in her hair again, pulling her head back as his hips smacked against her ass, fucking her harder and harder. “Go on, Junia. Show me what a dissolute whore you are, coming on my cock.”   
“Shit!” She hissed, “Oh god…!” 

It quickly turned brutal and was absolutely fantastic. It almost felt as if she blacked out for a moment and when she came to, Vulpes hand was clasped over her mouth, keeping her silent as he bit into her shoulder, hard. She could feel his cock pulsating inside her and she clenched around him, as if her body unconsciously wanted milk his whole being into hers. When he pulled out, his seed ran down her thigh and her hair was everywhere - a bird’s nest of tousles, but as she slouched down in her chair again with her pants now pulled back up, it was with a smile she allowed her husband to but the cuffs back on. 

Before he left, he drew his fingers through her hair, righting it to hang over one shoulder.   
“I’ll see you soon.” Vulpes said, touching his lips against hers before he but his fedora back on and banged on the door. The guard who opened and then came in to bring her back to her cell seemed unaffected, as if he’d been completely ignorant to what had transpired on the other side of the wall, not that June really cared. For the first time in over two weeks, she didn’t feel empty on the inside. 

Another week, and it was time for the trial to start.


End file.
